


Codicil

by idiotbrothers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom Sam, Dean Apologizes, Fix-It, Jealous Dean, M/M, Past Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Season/Series 08, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiotbrothers/pseuds/idiotbrothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Benny are initially pretending to be involved to catch Dean's attention, but it morphs into something more. There are confrontations and reconciliations to be had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Codicil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stolenvoices](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stolenvoices/gifts).



> Written as a sort of wordy sequel to a ficlet I posted on tumblr, which I've provided a link to at the bottom of the page. You don't have to read it first, but I've included it just in case.

Benny was trying to put the whole Sam-kissing-him thing out of his mind, but it was proving impossible because the kid seemed to be warming up to him more steadily now, open smiles and friendly _good morning_ s uttered around the rim of a coffee mug and his damn _mouth_ was getting to be an irresistible temptation. Thing was, Sam had apparently suppressed his impulse to use Benny to catch Dean's attention--it was as if that moment in the war room had never happened. Which Benny resented a little, because even if the reason behind it had been discouraging, Sam had still kissed him. And Benny really fucking wanted it to happen again.

So one night, while he and the brothers were relaxing after a hunt, the two of them nursing beers and him clutching a half-empty bag of AB positive, he tentatively reached over and took Sam's hand. Sam looked mildly startled, glanced at him curiously and then broke into a small, understanding smile when Benny winked at him. Dean pointedly ignored them, chugging the rest of his beer and cracking open another.

That wasn't the end of it, either. Benny started taking to kissing Sam at least once a day, hands cradling his face as he pressed their lips together softly whenever Dean was around to see it. When they pulled apart, Sam would stroke his thumb over Benny's cheek and gaze at him with this affection that Benny seriously wanted to believe was at least partially genuine, and he'd hardly be aware of the sounds of Dean's irritation coming from another part of the room, heavy footfalls and too-loud rustling as Sam leaned back in to brush his mouth maddeningly carefully along Benny's jaw.

"I think he's getting used to us," Sam said to Benny one freezing winter morning, the busted heater in his bedroom making it so that he looked to be in serious need of warming up.

"Naw, he still gets that look on his face like he wants to punch our teeth out." 

Sam sighed, rubbing his hands along his goose-pimpled arms until Benny threw an arm around his shoulders and drew him into the heat of his side, quietly thrilled when Sam simply relaxed against him. "And that's a good thing...how, exactly?" Benny shrugged. "You wanted to make him jealous, you're makin' him jealous. Dunno where you were plannin' on taking it from here."  Sam sighed again, almost mournfully this time. "I didn't think it'd actually work." Benny regarded him skeptically, fingers toying with the curling ends of his hair. "Y'sure about that? Even I know your brother's one hell of a possessive bastard when it comes to you, kid. It doesn't take much to get him riled on your account." Sam scoffed, hooking his chin over Benny's shoulder as he considered. "Okay, yeah. But I don't--I don't know what he wants at this point. Maybe the fact that he's this bothered by it means that he hasn't, y'know, _lost interest_ in me, but maybe it's just more of the same. He gets pissed at me for even looking at him wrong these days."

Personally, Benny thought that last bit was slightly exaggerated, because he'd hung around Dean for a while longer than he had around Sam, and he knew that when Dean got shit-faced (which was often), he yammered on and on about Sam like it was what he was wired to do, and yeah, sometimes he said bitter, hard-edged things, but the vast majority of the time, he waxed poetic about Sam like he was a lovestruck fool. Which, Benny knew now, he actually _was_. 

_"He's--his fuckin' hair, Benny, it's, like. Miles long. I wanna fuckin'--I dunno,_ bite _it. His face, too. Dumb motherfucker..." Benny gently pried the bottle out of Dean's hand, saying, "Think you've had enough, brother. S' time for you to hit the hay." Dean groaned, fingers closing over the absence of the bottle. "_ Brother _, yeah--I, god. Feels like I haven't touched him in a billion years." Benny nodded understandingly, maneuvered him up off the floor. "We were down there a long time, I know. You missed him." Dean leaned his full weight into Benny, nearly making him stumble. When he spoke, his mouth was at Benny's ear, hot and wet. "Really fuckin' missed him. He's fuckin'--he looks good. I should be, like. Happy. But I'm--he's--he didn't even try. Got himself a new girlfriend, and I can't--"_

_Something about the way Dean talked about Sam had always pinged Benny's radar, because it had been a while since he'd interacted with more-or-less-civilized company, but he was fairly sure normal guys didn't spend their every waking minute obsessing over their younger brothers. "Won't he be worried about you? You shouldn't've left him tonight," Benny fretted, walking Dean over to the lone unused bed and depositing him on it, trying to shake off his hands where they were clutching at his coat. "What's it matter, huh?" Dean babbled, eyes shiny in the low light, "What's any of it matter if we aren't t'gether?" Benny gave up on pushing Dean off and loomed over him, attempting to look reassuring, even as he felt distinctly like he was in over his head. "Y'all_ are _together. I'm tellin' you, let me take you back to him. Don't want this brother of yours comin' after me when you're still missing by morning."_

_"He wouldn't," Dean snorted, " 'S not like that. Shit. Must've been...pumpin' iron while I was gone, or something. His fuckin' arms--I wanna_ break _'em, Jesus--"_

_"_ Okay _," Benny drawled, eyebrows furrowed with mingled befuddlement and concern, "Sleep it off, come on." He pushed Dean firmly into the mattress and drew back, shaking his head to himself and hoping that Sam Winchester wouldn't get as tightly wound as Dean did about the absence of his other half._

"Benny?"

"Huh?" Benny blinked away the memory and returned to the present, to Sam's body pressed against him and his eyes boring into his face curiously. "Oh, ah, I don't think you should be worried that he's lost interest," Benny finally said, ignoring the cold knot of displeasure in his chest. "From where I'm standing, I can't see that ever happening." Sam blinked rapidly, then leaned his head against Benny's arm. "Yeah, well. Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't know him like I know him." Benny conceded that, because for every memory he had of himself and Dean fighting for their lives together and talking for hours by the dim light of a dying flame and even fucking once or twice when the urge struck them, Sam likely had twenty more.

"Hey," Sam suddenly said, touching a careful finger to Benny's mouth, "You wanna...practice?" Benny's frown, which he'd only just realized he was sporting, deepened. "How do you mean?" Sam pulled back abruptly, yanking a hand through his hair. "Okay, look, can I be honest with you?" A measure of dread settled into Benny's bones. "Yeah, of course." Sam swallowed, an endearing blush coloring his face. "I--I _like_ doing this. With you. The whole," he waved a hand indiscernibly, "Couple act. All the k-kissing and stuff."

Avoiding Benny's eyes, he continued, "Sorry if that freaks you out. I just thought I'd come clean about the fact that I'm actually enjoying this, which I never fucking expected to happen considering I'm still very much in love with my fucking _brother_ ; thank you for that, God; but anyway you're too good to me and I don't know why you're this willing to indulge my immature whims but I really appreciate it and I really appreciate _you_ , and I guess what I'm trying to say is that you're a much better person than I assumed you'd be and I feel bad for being an ass to you before and I think I--I--"

"Sam." 

Sam stopped talking, gulping a breath and shifting his hands uneasily. "Yeah?"

"I'm gonna kiss you now." Sam looked momentarily surprised, then relieved, dimpled grin lighting up his face. "Okay." 

* * *

Dean tapped his foot impatiently, restless with nerves and baseless anger. Both Sam and Benny had been absent from the breakfast table, and they were still gone an hour later. Up until then, Dean had assumed that they weren't really sleeping together, because though he had sometimes spotted them leaving Sam's room together, Dean knew how Sam had felt about Benny for a long time following their first meeting, and he also knew it wasn't Sam's style to fuck someone he didn't legitimately care for.

Furthermore, he knew that Sam was trying to make him jealous. Trading kisses with Benny in full view of Dean, touching him excessively and giving him these loaded _looks_ even while he was sucking down refrigerated blood: none of it made sense unless Sam was doing it to get under Dean's skin. And, hey, _knowing that_ didn't lessen the effectiveness of Sam's actions, because Dean damn near saw red every time he caught Benny with a hand on Sam's ass, some primal urge in him rebelling at the idea that Sam could be anyone else's. It was gross and pathetic and--okay, you know what, Dean really fucking needed to find out what they were getting up to right now, because he was practically shaking out of his skin with anxiety.

Jumping out of his chair and abandoning the book he wasn't reading, Dean walked until he found himself in front of Sam's door, knocked nonchalantly. One, two, three. "Sam? I'm coming in," Dean said gruffly, twisting the unlocked doorknob and sweeping open the door. "Some privacy, Dean?" Sam's voice uttered, high-pitched and irritated. Dean froze just inside the room, taking in the scene in front of him. Sam was naked, sheets puddled around his waist and hair a mess, mouth sucked red. Benny stood awkwardly to the side of the bed, like he'd barely just managed to scramble there, his pants unzipped and his eyes looking off to the side. Dean focused on Sam, heartbeat thundering in his chest as he drank in the sight of him, re-familiarized himself with that which he hadn't been allowed to see in years.

Sam drew the sheets up over his torso, clutching them to himself tightly. "What do you want?" He asked, only stammering a little. Dean turned sharply and stepped towards Benny, gratified when he backed up until he hit the wall. "So. This is how much our friendship means to you, huh? This's how you repay me for dragging your ass out of that hellhole?" Benny held his hands up, shaking his head. "Dean, I can explain..."

"Save it, shithead," Dean spat, prodding a finger at his bare chest. Sam had gotten out of bed, sheets gathered against himself, and was touching a hand hesitantly to Dean's elbow. "Come on, Dean, don't do this. He's been nothing but a good friend to you."

"Oh, yeah?" Dean said, voice rising along with his blood pressure, "If he was so great, he wouldn't be letting his dick get the better of him. He fucking--he _knows_ how I feel about you." 

"Hmm, and how _do_ you feel about me, Dean? Please, share with the class. 'Cause for a while now, I've been getting nothing but contempt and self-righteous anger." Dean sneered at Sam, watching the muscle in his jaw tic. "So that's it, then? You're cozying up to him because you're trying to _get over_ me? Hate to tell you this, Sam, but it doesn't fucking work that way. You don't get to just replace me when I start to bore you." Sam dragged a hand roughly over the side of his face. "That is such _shit_ , and you know it. Can you stop acting like the universe revolves around you, for two goddamn seconds? Believe it or not, I _like_ Benny. You don't even factor into it." 

"Huh. Funny you should say that, 'cause I'm pretty sure the reason you started throwing yourself at him in the first place had to do with how hung up you are on me." 

"I--it's not like--Benny, tell him he's full of shit," Sam spluttered, turning to Benny expectantly, chest heaving behind the folds of the sheets. Benny looked spooked, hands held up cautiously. "Uh...I really don't wanna get between the two of you," he started, and Dean snorted at that, said, "Little too late for that, old pal. Shoved your cock _right_ between us." 

"Dean!" Sam said, outraged. "While we're on the subject," Dean said, ignoring him, "Did Benny ever happen to tell you about the handful of times he fucked me, down in Purgatory?" Sam opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and the stupefied look on his face gave Dean a sadistic jolt of pleasure. "Yeah, we had some fun together, the two of us. I'd get off on him calling me 'brother', he'd ride my ass until I nearly passed out--We even tried bloodplay once. Turns out, doing that kinda thing with a vampire is better in theory than in practice."

Sam's mouth was tight, his eyes avoiding Benny's even as he reached out for him. "Sam..." Benny said, trailing off uncertainly. "Why are you telling me this?" Sam asked, focusing his attention on Dean. "Let's see," Dean drawled, mock-contemplatively, "Maybe to show you that to precious Benny, you're just another piece of ass?"

From one second to the next, Benny had his fists clenched in the collar of Dean's shirt, eyes sparking with restrained rage. "Don't talk about him like that," Benny spat, giving Dean a rough shake for emphasis. Dean winced, mouth twisted up into an awful smile. "Wow, this is just so _sweet_. Sticking up for his honor like you're his _boyfriend_ , or something. I'm touched." 

Benny pushed him away disgustedly, gathering his shirt and jacket up off the floor and turning back to Sam. "Are you okay with goin' somewhere else for a bit? I feel like we should talk. In private." Sam blinked dazedly, slow to react. "Y-yeah. Okay." He picked his clothes off the bed and tugged them on as Dean watched, growing steadily more horrified with himself as he stood there, a wave of wretchedness sweeping over his thoughts.

As soon as Sam and Benny had gotten less naked, Benny gingerly took Sam's hand and walked him out the door, leaving Dean frozen in place and at a complete loss as to what to do next. 

* * *

As Benny tugged gently on his hand, leading him forward, Sam felt overwhelmingly guilty. He was suddenly fixated on the fact that, during his little bout of verbal diarrhea with Benny earlier, he hadn't mentioned Amelia in any way.

_I'm still very much in love with my fucking_ brother.

Well, yes, that was true--despite Dean's recurring tendency to drive Sam up the wall and nearly out of his mind with frustration, he loved him so much that it wore away at his heart with every day that passed that they were apart in all the ways that mattered. His love for Dean was corrosive, twisted over the years and all-consuming, whereas what he surmised was his budding love for Benny was soft and innocuous, planted discreetly in his chest before he could properly notice it. But what about Amelia? Had he cut her out of his heart already, filled up the space that used to be hers so quickly that she didn't even cross his mind when he was, to put it one way, opening up to a new romantic interest?

It made him feel worse than he would have expected, because though she'd moved on now, reunited herself with the true love of her life, she had _saved_ him that year, from an untimely death at his own hands, and from descending too far into his own grief that his life would've been worthless anyway. Yet he was already forgetting her. Maybe Dean was right. Maybe Sam _was_ fickle enough to be on the rebound. Maybe he'd initially invested himself in using Benny to catch Dean's eye because he was trying to take his mind off Amelia. Maybe what he currently felt for Benny was nothing more than relief at his representing a much easier prospective relationship than either Dean or Amelia did.

Jesus, that thought made him feel slimy as all get-out. If that was the kind of person he was, he didn't have the right to feel dejected at the image of Dean and Benny together.

"I can hear your brain workin' from here," Benny said, breaking into Sam's thoughts. He stopped walking and let go of Sam's hand. They were still in the middle of the hallway, but it was far enough from Sam's room to constitute privacy. Sam struggled to come up with something to say, but failed miserably, held back by his own insecurities. Benny cleared his throat, scratching at his cheek nervously. "Listen, Sam, I'm sorry you had to hear that. The way Dean acts around you a lot of the time is--" He broke off, frowning, then continued, "But it doesn't matter what he said, or what he and I did together before.  I'm interested in you for more than just your body, and he probably knows it, too. He's just tryin' to get under your skin."

Sam shifted, blinking against a sudden urge to tear up. "Why?" Benny tilted his head in confusion, and Sam clarified, "Why are you interested in me?" His hands clenched into fists as he said it, and he felt weak and unsure, his whole body locking up as he glanced away and half-hoped Benny would give up on him, decide he wasn't worth the trouble and walk out. "Sam," Benny said, and Sam automatically looked up only to regret it, finding himself caught under the burning, ineffable sincerity in Benny's eyes.

"Sam," Benny said again, taking his hand and tangling their fingers together in a terribly sweet gesture. "Back in Purgatory, me n' Dean would sometimes get to talking, bored out of our minds and with nothin' else to do but kill to pass the time, y'know? Anyway, he'd tell me all these stories about the kid brother who was waiting for him upstairs. He used to ramble about you for hours--the face you make when you're ticked at him, your moles, that one time you broke your leg savin' a cat from a tree."

"That was ages ago," Sam cut in, voice hoarse because Dean had always done this, kept an abstract version of Sam tucked into a pocket in his mind, the _Good Little Brother_ parts of him patched onto a schema of his younger self, the wide-eyed and worshipful kid he'd been, sure that Dean had all the answers in the world. "Point is, Sam," Benny said, snapping him out of his morose train of thought, "I heard so much about you I started feelin' like I knew you myself, like you were someone impossible and amazing and perfect." The back of Sam's throat burned, and he gripped tighter at Benny's fingers, clenching his teeth painfully. His thoughts were dark and acrid, battering against the inside of his skull as he fought not to ask, _And that illusion was stomped to bits when we met, right?_

"After Dean and I made it topside, and after we finally met," Benny continued, squeezing Sam's hand reassuringly, "I realized there's a lot more to you than the picture Dean'd painted for me. When it comes to you, Dean's got some wonky ideas." Sam breathed out glumly. "Yeah, because he expects too much from someone  as--as _weak_ as I am. Believe me, I get that."

"No," Benny said, commanding Sam's full attention with the force of his voice. "No, that's not it. What I'm saying is, he expects too much from you,  _period_. You're not perfect. Nobody is. But he acts like it's your responsibility to be that way. Like you don't got enough to deal with already. And, see, you try so hard for him. You shouldn't _have_ to, 'cause you're you and if he don't like it he can take a hike, but. You _do_. Every day. You're one of the strongest people I've ever known, Sam." 

Sam pressed one fist to his mouth, shaking his head in alarm, the derisive voice that lived inside his brain (and that often sounded like Dean, truth be told) saying, _Wow, did this guy get a bad read on you_. "How can you say that?" Sam rasped, vision blurring with unshed tears. "You barely know me. I get mad at Dean a lot, but he's mostly right; I've fucked up so much that it's like, my default. I dunno how he's put up with me for so long, but even though--even though it's all wrong between us now, I. Fuck, I--I want--"

"I know you do," Benny said, giving Sam a crooked smile and staring down at their linked hands, something distinctly unhappy reflected in his eyes. Sam felt like such a dick. "Oh, hey. Benny," He started, but couldn't find the words to make it better, to reassure Benny of how much _he_ meant to him, regardless of where he stood with  Dean. Sam put a palm on Benny's shoulder and leaned in to kiss him, quick and gentle before he rested his forehead against Benny's and murmured, "I'm sorry I'm like this." 

"Nothin' to be sorry for," Benny insisted, carding his fingers slowly through Sam's hair. "I can see how important Dean is to you, and the other way around. Outsider like me can't ever touch that." 

"Maybe what I need is an outsider's perspective," Sam said, and when he angled his head back to catch Benny's reaction, he was grinning warmly, his hand coming up to rest low on Sam's back. Sam's mouth curled into an answering smile. "Was that too much?"

"Laid it on a little thick," Benny agreed, but he kissed Sam to let him know he was kidding, smoothed his big fingers over Sam's cheeks. "We should talk some more," Benny said, "There's a lot I wanna know about you, if you're okay with tellin' me."

"Sure," Sam said, heartbeat loud in his ears, "And you could tell me more about _you_ , so you're not just my brother's enigmatic vampire friend who I'm weirdly attracted to." Benny laughed. "Sounds like a plan." 

* * *

That night, Sam was sitting at the map table and doing research on his laptop, as per his usual nightly routine, when Dean walked in. _Shit_. Sam should've confined himself to his room. Without looking up, Sam could sense that Dean was frozen in place, no doubt trying to think up something appropriate to say. "Where's Benny?" Ah. Not so appropriate. Sam kept his eyes on his screen. "He went out," he answered bluntly, "Not that it's any of your business."

Dean tittered nervously, said, "Okay, uh. So, you guys are--You're good, then? You're, like, _together_?" Sam glanced up sharply, meeting Dean's eyes and making him flinch. "Dean," he said testily, "If you have something to say, spit it out." Dean scrubbed a hand through his hair, wrestled with a frown. "I...I just can't believe that--that you'd pick him over me. I thought we were over the whole seeing-other-people thing. While we're together, I mean. It never ends well for anybody, remember? Besides, Benny's just...Benny. He ain't exactly relationship material."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Oh? Aren't you the one who said something about him being a better brother to you than I've ever been?" Dean bit his lip, irritation flashing in his eyes. "Yeah, but that was--"

"Also, correct me if I'm wrong, but the last time you and I were _together_ was three years ago. So...moot point." 

"Sam, you can't just--I still _want_ you, don't you get that?" Sam shut the lid of his laptop, looking up at Dean warily. "I know. I want you, too. Always have, probably always will." Dean looked relieved at that, started to say, "So why don't we--"

"Because," Sam interrupted, and he was proud that his voice didn't shake, "Because it doesn't change anything. You make me feel...not so great about myself, so often that I don't even notice it anymore until I'm forced to think about it from a different angle. And Benny makes me happy. You _do_ want me to be happy, right?" Dean looked taken aback, fists clenched at his sides and voice strained when he spoke. "Yes, I--Of course I do. But..."

"But only if it's with you, right?"

" _What_? No, I never said that."

"You _meant_ it. Or am I putting words in your mouth again?" Dean grimaced, changing tacks when he said, "I just think it's selfish of you to try to kick me to the curb 'cause you've got a shiny new toy to play with." Sam sighed heavily, putting his head in his hands and sitting like that for a moment, fingers twisted in his hair. "C'mon, Sam," Dean said, softer now, stepping closer and placing a hand on Sam's shoulder, sliding it down over his bicep. Sam had to suppress a shiver. "C'mon. It could be good between us again. Why would you risk messing that up?" Dean crouched so that he could try to look Sam in the eye, taking his face between his hands.

"Sammy. Look at me." 

"Stop," Sam hissed, shutting his eyes and hating the way he automatically leaned into Dean's touch, the way something in him sparked at the sensuous cadence of Dean's words, even as he realized that he was being manipulated. Dean ignored Sam's plea, moving forward to kiss Sam's neck, the underside of his jaw. "Dean, don't," Sam gasped, planting a palm square in the center of Dean's chest, but finding himself unwilling to push him away, letting his hand trail down his brother's body instead.

Dean shushed him, painstakingly unbuttoning Sam's shirt and skimming his fingers over Sam's bare skin, his gaze dark. One of Dean's hands had ended up at Sam's fly, and he fingered at the zipper, his touch faint enough that it should've been ineffectual, but Sam had been half-hard already. "Let me," Dean said, and Sam was trembling now, gripping tight at Dean's shirt like he couldn't decide whether he wanted to tear it off in one fluid movement or not.

It was all he could do to finally let go of Dean and stand up.

Sam sucked in a steadying breath. "I said _no_ , Dean."

"Sam--" Dean hazarded, and Sam would've expected him to be angry, but he mainly looked crestfallen, mouth downturned and eyes wounded. Sam's heart ached traitorously. "I can't, okay?" Sam said, gentling his voice for Dean's sake. "I can't do anything behind Benny's back." 

"He'd get over it," Dean insisted stubbornly. "I don't think he'd even be surprised, considering, y'know, _us_." Sam shook his head, and with a final mumbled apology at Dean, he scooped up his laptop and headed for the relative safety of his room. 

* * *

"I don't know what to do," Sam whispered later, wrapped in Benny's warmth and preoccupied all over again with disheartening thoughts of Dean, even with Benny's fingers tangled in his hair and his ass sore from the busy night they'd had together. Sam had latched onto Benny almost as soon as he'd returned to the bunker, throwing his arms around him and kissing him until he was gasping for breath, his hands shaking minutely as they stroked over Benny's broad back. And after they'd locked themselves in Sam's room for a good couple of hours to sate their need for each other (skin marked up and mouths crushed together bruisingly hard at points, sweat dripping off Sam as he was fucked into his mattress, his fingernails digging into Benny's shoulders with every thrust), Sam had shamefacedly explained to Benny what had happened while he'd been gone.

Benny had cut Sam off mid-apology, telling him it was okay, and not to worry about it, and hadn't he already told Sam he knew he could never take Dean's place?

Sam remained unsettled by his own feelings, his brow furrowed even as Benny brushed his lips over his cheeks, thumbed at his bottom lip. "It isn't fair to you," Sam said quietly, stilling Benny's hands with his own and sitting up to look Benny squarely in the face. "I don't wanna hurt you by... _messing around_ with Dean when you and I are supposed to be--"

"So why don't the three of us mess around _together_?"

Sam's mouth fell shut, and he considered that for a moment, somewhat distracted by the tickle of Benny's left hand at his hipbone. "You mean, like...a threesome? Think he'd be up for that?" Benny shrugged. "Judgin' by his stories, it wouldn't be the kinkiest thing he's done."

Sam hummed thoughtfully, trying to imagine what it would be like; getting to touch Dean and Benny at the same time, to have them both looming over him, unclothed and uninhibited. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "Yeah, um. That could be interesting." 

* * *

The next morning, Sam cornered Dean in the kitchen as he was yawning and rifling through their mostly-empty boxes of cereal. Dean stiffened the second he noticed him, setting aside his bowl and spoon and turning to face Sam warily. Sam cleared his throat, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"So, um...Benny and I were talking last night, and..."

"Sam," Dean blurted, sounding so agitated that Sam clamped his mouth shut and waited for him to continue.

"Sam, I...I'm sorry. All that shit I said to you yesterday morning, and then the way I fucking... _assaulted_ you, all because I was jealous. I've been a real asshole to you, and that's not even accounting for the other stuff." Sam moistened his lips. "What other stuff?"

Dean dragged a hand over his hair, clearly uncomfortable. "Y'know, uh. The Amelia thing. The...fake text. And the way I've been getting on your case all year." He paused, mouth working wordlessly before he repeated, "I'm sorry," his eyes downcast.

Sam exhaled slowly, fists clenching and unclenching in his pockets. "Well, it's not like some of it wasn't justified. I did hang Kevin out to dry, when it was my responsibility to take care of him." Dean grew a guilty look on his face to match Sam's. "Yeah, but honestly, that wasn't what I was mad at you for. Not even a little part of the reason. Man, I've been so self-centered--"

Dean stopped talking when Sam bridged the distance between them, his hands traveling up to rest on Dean's shoulders.

"Thank you," Sam breathed, kissing Dean's mouth carefully and relishing the way Dean twisted his hands in the cotton of Sam's shirt. When he broke the kiss, Dean was staring glassily at him, lips parted.

"Sam, you shouldn't be thanking me. I'm fucked up." Sam nodded, saying matter-of-factly, "We're both fucked up."

Dean frowned rather unhappily, but settled his hands over Sam's waist anyway, starting to lean in before he stopped abruptly. "You were gonna tell me something earlier, when you walked in."

"Oh," Sam said, "I was gonna proposition you for a threesome. With me and Benny. It wouldn't have to be a one-time thing. I mean, um, if you _liked_ it, obviously." Sam coughed awkwardly, feeling stupid until he saw that Dean was actually smiling at him, eyes bright.

"What kind of a moron would I have to be to say no to that?" 

**Author's Note:**

> Link to prequel: http://idiotbrothers.tumblr.com/post/97398920036/sam-and-benny-7-idk-if-you-ship-it-much-you


End file.
